The Girl With The Spider Tattoo
by Ella Grazzi
Summary: UPDATED! M-21, an assassin-for-hire, initiates a mission wherein it goes awry when she meets an infamous assassin just like her. Note: Story cover taken from the Internet.
1. Prologue

In a place where only the strong live and the weak die, what more can a mere being such as I do? If it's only a matter of survival, then what's the sense of living when you're suffering?

I didn't choose to be born in this world. My parents left me long before I know of them. Why did mother bring me to life when she eventually died by doing so? And where did father go when I was left alone with no one to take care of me but only him? Why did they leave if they won't be with me?

They actually don't want me - that's the sole reason and the answer why I'm left behind, alone in the cruel crowd where I'm lost and will never be found.

This world's a haze. It consumes you to corruption that you'll be unable to return to sanity. I guess that's what happens when you let yourself indulge in its pleasure and waste your life away thinking there is no other way to end the pain.

And just because the pain subsides doesn't mean it's completely gone - it deteriorates and later becomes a curse for a whole lifetime.

What more could I do when it's already too late? Perhaps I shall await my death to sentence me for eternity.

That's what I thought until for some time I realized I should go . . . .

 _It's gonna be now or never._


	2. The Assassin

_Headquarters, 02/13/20XX__

"I trust your cooperation on this, M-21."

She only nods in response. It's always what her 'boss' says in every end of debriefing. Getting used to it after ten years of training, M-21 can easily put the words in thought without them fully said. The people who took her to custody had made her become what she is now in the present, an assassin.

And that is what she is living for.

Her boss shows her a briefcase. Then clicking the security PIN, it opens.

"These are all you need. The rest is yours to handle."

She takes the briefcase and leaves without a word.

* * *

 _Target Area, 02/14/20XX__

When the clock strikes at twelve, M-21 stands from the sofa and puts the magazine she is reading back to its shelf. For her, waiting for the right time is always necessary before she will act for the perfect moment - that was what _they_ taught her best.

She approaches the receptionist and asks for assistance in the briefcase she carries for inspection. After the security check, he gives her a leaflet of the condominium, the keys to her room and he helps her with her briefcase on her way to the elevator. Pulling a smile on her face, she insists on carrying her rather heavy briefcase herself to her floor. The receptionist gets only red and quickly returns to duty. Turning around, she gets into the elevator and presses the button for the fourteenth floor. It will be quick enough to reach it if she makes it possible to avoid condominium staff or occupants. Her client will sure be in a great anticipation for his arrival in her unit for the negotiations. Luckily for her, she is the only user of the elevator. It is already late, so it will be scarcely used by any people.

That is until a hand goes to stop the doors from closing. A man in his early twenties enters. "That was close," he says. "Perfect timing, though. You going to Floor 14 too?" She inclines her head to him. Now that she is alone with someone, she makes it clear to herself that she will not further entertain any small talk. She only smiles as a response and the man nods.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence and in its quietude, she lets her mind drift in curiosity. Black hair and dark eyes. This man is a stranger, she thought. Even though he is concealing it well with In she was hyper aware that this man is beyond ordinary. Using Gyō she can see that her surmise is right. He is an assassin hired by another Mafia Don and she must better avoid any encounter of him in the future. This is no stranger at all, this man knows what Nen is and she is sure this man is an expert user. One thing she doesn't know is his type of Nen; there are six types of Nen and there is one-sixth of a chance he will fall on any of those types. _Enhancement, Emission, Transmutation, Conjuration, Manipulation and Specialization. Which type is it?_

Her musings are disrupted when the doors of the elevator slides open. It is finally the fourteenth floor. Turning her head towards her companion, she sees that he is gesturing her to go out first. "After you." She smiles and is about to go out but he is blocking her way. She gives him a sharp look, annoyance evident in her face. But it is another gesture from him that requests her to hand out the heavy briefcase to him. She smiles once again and speaks. "No, thank you."

"I insist. That briefcase is rather heavy for you, my lady." His reply is short enough to piss her off. She rolls her eyes and walks past through him but he holds her back. "It's impolite to turn down a man's offer to help," he says. "And turning away when he's talking to you."

Her eyes narrow down at him. "It's also rude to insist, when it's already clear I don't want your help," she spats in response.

"But it's obvious that you need it."

"You have it right." She loosens her hold to the briefcase and sighs in defeat. he just hands it to him so there will be no more talk coming from him. They leave and together, they walk side by side on the hallways as he accompanies her to her room. She takes the silence as an opportunity and proceeds to speak it out loud. "You're another assassin-for-hire," she states as a matter of fact. "I take that you and I have the same type of targets."

"That's observant of you," he replies. "But the Mafia didn't hire me, if you thought so."

Her question is finally answered. _So that was just it. At least, I now know_. "I was wrong, then." She wants to ask more, but thinks better of it as it is a confidential information for assassins-for-hire about their work and their employer. They walk without anymore talk until she stops at one of the numbered doors. He puts the briefcase down softly on the floor so as not to make any sound. She turns to look at him in the eye. "Thank you," she says as she kisses him on the cheek.

The man doesn't seem to react and he simply speaks, "Very well, then. Farewell." With that, he turns and resumes his walk to another hallway, away from her and towards his target.

A handsome man yet a mystery to behold, just like her. His emotionless face and his retreating figure are all she could think about. She sighs and shakes her mind off of the thought. For now, she must focus on the mission at hand behind the door.

 **1408**

This is the room of her designated target. And if she remembers correctly, this room numbered in digits with the sum of thirteen is considered an 'unlucky' room for the unfortunate events that happened to its previous owners. It was banned from usage, of course. Yet with money and the charms, she is able to get it without fuss. And later on, ominous things will start. She pulls the keys from her pockets and unlocks the door. She goes in and upon entering, two glasses of wine and a dinner for two is already awaiting her as per her request earlier to the management. _Good. All I need to do is get dressed._ She takes a quick shower and changes into a thin nightgown with side slits for the warm night of her mission.

Several moments later, the bell rings and the door unlocks. Her target enters, a Mafia Don informant she must tame for a while. _Perfect. One, two, three . . . pose._

She lies on the bed with her legs sprawled out to show her luscious skin. And when he sees her, he throws away the briefcase he is holding then quickly loosens his necktie and dashes straight at her breasts.

A loud scream erupts within the room.

The world stops and everything goes black.

* * *

 _Blood._

She is drenched in her victim's blood after his blissful bedding had turned into a bloody beating.

 _Disgusting._

That is the first thought she has in mind at the sight. She moves the corpse aside and gets up from the bed. She tosses the knife and heads straight to the bathroom to clean herself.

It was longer than she expected. Her Manipulation almost drained her of her life force. Though it was just a hypnotism, she would admit that she enjoyed it. The pleasure of toying with her victim and the feeling of being high above the sky was what she liked during their session. Yet somehow he got aggressive at her in the end - more demanding as if she was his wife; when in truth, she was just using his wife's image for her own sake.

And that prompted her the perfect timing. And then, she snatches the knife from under the pillow and slit his throat open.

And yes, it was just that she used her Nen ability as a Manipulator to finish him off. She was not just only soaked in her victim's blood, but she was also wet of his arousal from their imaginary act. She pulls the nightgown down and squeezes the excess blood and body fluids from it before throwing it into the basin of water and disinfectant.

She turns the shower on and settles herself in the tub. Closing her eyes, she reimagined what had happened earlier before she entered the loathsome door where she knew she was awaiting someone who would cause her fatigue all over her body.

The condo unit. The keys. The elevator. The briefcase.

Then the _man._

The mysterious man with those deep pools of emotionless eyes she had never seen in her entire life before.

 _The assassin._

She awakes from her dream. A sad smile forming in her lips as tears escaped her eyes. She feels her chest constrict at the unusual feeling she gets from thinking of a stranger of a man she just met last night.

And no, she was not appeased with her victim's own satisfaction of her - it was rather uncouth (even though it really was in fact) and tasteless in its sense of delivery and performance.

So she imagined herself being _with_ that man instead.

And in her dreams, she would see _him_ again.

* * *

Side by side, she arranged her cargo and set it on place. Now would all the preparations be put into action. Grabbing the case and unlatching it, she removed every single batch of the bombs and connected each multicolored wire to complete the setup.

With everything done, all she had to do was -

"Nice setup," a voice speaks.

M-21 stays from her spot and pulls the gun from her vest to shoot anyone who tries to hinder her plans. She points the gun at the intruder, ready to pull the trigger. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, I've just finished. I've been wandering where to go to until I chanced to stray here."

It was _him_. She lowers her gun and puts it back to her vest. "I'm busy," she says and looks at him sharply. "So get lost."

"I'm already lost."

M-21's brow twitches in annoyance. _Clearly, he doesn't get it, unless . . . ._

She takes a few steps forward to him and stops her feet when she's already in close proximity with him. She is tall, but he is taller. She looks up at him expectantly and snakes her arms around his neck, standing in tiptoes.

His expression from the first time she saw him and from their exchange just now makes no difference. It's like he stays the same all the time even if it's another situation.

But despite his demeanor, she leans in and seals their lips in a kiss. Unfortunately, it isn't enough to move him in the slightest. It is abrupt though, as she stops her approach to deepen the kiss when he doesn't respond to her affection. "What's wrong?"

"What are you doing?" he asks nonchalantly.

M-21 furrows her brows and her arms loosen their hold as they fall weakly to her sides, releasing him from her embrace. _Answering a question with another question._ She turns away from him and sighs deeply. "I'm an assassin."

"So am I."

A cold wind brushes past them as silence engulfs the rooftop. Neither makes an attempt to continue any further talk.

A few moments passed them until a phone ring breaks the quietude. It comes from the man's pocket. He picks it up and answers the call which only took mere seconds. "I gotta go, I have another job to do."

M-21 speaks in a low, yet soft voice. "Farewell, then."

And before she can turn one last time to see his face, he is nowhere of sight.

She looks up above the dark sky. There are no stars but only large lumps of clouds. But it doesn't matter to her anymore as long as her plan will be initiated in _this_ mission.

Closing her eyes, she breathes in the air around her and wallows in the ambiance she has at the time being.

 _I guess this will be my last farewell_ _to you._ _This will be the end_ _of it all._

She flutters her eyes open. A grim smile forms in her lips.

 _Everything is in place. Now is the time. The midnight sky will shine._

She dashes forward the edge of the building and jumps off the rooftop.


	3. The Troupe

_York New City, present day__

Despite the bright lights of buildings and such skyscrapers, the formidable darkness creeps along the narrow alleyways. Private cars ligned up in a row one by one as men in black suits stand guards. One of them, a man in his early thirties, keeps on checking his watch as he lets another minute pass. Their long awaiting on the arrival of a certain group in the middle of the night regardless of their exposure in the big city of York New may be a risk to their reputation. But this opportunity is once only and missing this will result in their failure.

Hours have passed and he lets out a sigh. He looks to his men and whistles to them. "We're leaving."

Before they can get in their automobiles and leave, figures begin retreating from the dark corners.

They have just arrived in the brink of time as expected from them.

The man clears his throat and greets them with regard. "It's good you made it. You've been keeping us for quite a generous time."

The leader, clad in his signature trench coat, offers an apology. "Pardon us for the delay, Mori-san."

The man, Agape Mori, offers a smile but then it disappears when he notices there are only three of them. "Where are the others?"

"They are still occupied with our previous client," the leader says.

Behind the leader stand only two of the twelve members. One was taller and the other shorter. They don't say anything and only observe in their exchange. "My boss instructed us here to fetch all of you and have an audience together. He is a frequent employer of yours so to say," he stated flatly.

Agape heaves a heavy sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose. For one: they were late. Of all the the things he hates is tardiness; time is gold and his faction could've been working with other transactions had they not been late. Two: the head of the Spiders only brought two of the twelve members; their boss instructed them to bring all thirteen members, including the leader. And three: they are done for; the admonition they are about to receive from their boss is coming as soon as they report back with the news of it.

Agape heaves a heavy sigh. "Here's your mission anyway," he whistles and one of his men hands over an envelope to the Spider leader.

The leader receives it and pulls out a portfolio which has expanded in thickness from its contents. "This is too much for a single subject, Mori-san. And too much is enough."

Agape lits a cigarette from his pocket and places it on his lips. "I could've explained the matter to you further." He removes it from his mouth and blows a smoke at the Spider leader's face then continues, "had you arrived a _tad_ earlier."

The latter remains unfazed despite the rudeness Agape has shown. Their employer is a frequent customer of theirs and must be handled calmly in spite of the representative. The leader of the Spiders only looks him dead in the eyes without Agape seeing it.

He re-places his cigarette on his lips. "The subject's nothing short of the complications you Spiders have never faced." Then he continues, puffing a circle around the chilly air, "The TF's nothing short of the bounty on your heads combined either."

A pregnant silence engulfs them. The reactions Agape has been expecting from the Spiders are nothing but only placid facades he can see in them. He lets an awkward chuckle escape from him. "Then I'll see you soon after you're done."

With that, Agape tips his hat and turns to leave with his men in their cars. As the car revs down the block, Agape lets the driver roll down the window for him. "Before I forget, you have to read through the files thoroughly. Make sure not to miss out any tinsy bit of info on the 'plus' of it." After that, they drive past them.

Chrollo turns his heels and walks ahead of his Spiders. "Let's go."

"That was tense!" Shalnark, the blond Spider chirps. "He could've exploded, good thing Boss didn't lose his cool."

"He no know respect. Should of taught him," says Feitan.

Chrollo only shrugs his shoulders. "It's our fault in the first place. We were late."

Shalnark checks his phone and there, the big font of the time shows up.

 **11:00**

"Nah, it's late but that Mori guy insisted despite our workload."

"We Spiders never tire," remarks Feitan. "We work and get pay."

"How's the progress with your work, Shal?" asks Chrollo.

The blond beams a smile. "About to end, Danchō. The process is still ongoing and by Saturday, all files hacked will have been downloaded."

Chrollo stops and so do his subordinates.

"Saturday morning today, Shal."

Shalnark turns to Feitan. "What?!"

He turns his phone on and checks the date _and_ time. Squinting his eyes, he can now have a clear view of the time and date glowing on the screen:

 **02:11**

 **Saturday, February 12**

Feitan snickers. "You read it upside down."

Shalnark frowns. "Already?! But only 38.47% of it is downloaded yet!"

"It's fine, Shal. But can you fasten it up a bit?" says Chrollo.

Shalnark beams a smile. "Sure thing, Danchō! I'll make sure it'll be completed the within the day!"

Chrollo nods. "Good. Now, let's head back to work with this mission."

* * *

Within the recesses of the old, dilapidated building, the Spiders who remain throughout their Boss's meeting find pleasure in passing their time playing poker underneath the glow of the full moon reflected on the shattered, stained glass windows of what was once a cathedral. Most of the Troupe just observe the exchange of the players. Standing are Machi, Shizuku, Pakunoda. Franklin, Feitan, and Kortopi sit on a boulder.

"I lose," huffs Phinks, tossing his zitch cards to the center.

"Huh, what the?!" Nobunaga. "I lose"

The man opposite Phinks remarks. "You guys better know the slim chances you have against me."

"What other tricks do you have up in your sleeves, Hisoka?" questions the strongest of the Spiders in terms of physical strength, Uvogin.

Hisoka shows a royal flush. "Lady luck is always on my side. That's how."

Dark auras flare between Hisoka and Uvogin, a quarrel about to begin in a few seconds.

"Well, congrats." Uvogin holds out a big hand for Hisoka.

The latter eyes Uvogin's big, wide smile and his hand. He takes it and shakes hands with him, the tense atmosphere subsiding.

Shizuku tips her eyeglasses. "Hisoka's a master gambler in poker, Uvo."

Everyone stares at Shizuku with gaping mouths.

Nobunaga picks his nose. "Never knew you're a keen observer."

"Besides," she adds, "Hisoka's wearing sleeveless."

The Spiders slouch. Phinks and Feitan slap a palm to their face.

"Alright, Shizuku," Pakunoda, the tallest woman in the Troupe, places a hand to her shoulder. "Everybody settle on your places. They're coming."

The Spiders sense three auras nearing the entrance of their base. They have been waiting long for their comrades' return since the last three hours. Slowly, their presence has surfaced.

"Welcome back, Danchō," acknowledges Pakunoda. "You too, Fei, Shal."

The leader positions himself to the center, surrounded by his Spiders. "We've waited for a big project," he begins. "Aside from our ventures, the Mafia has given us an opportunity that will depend on each of your cooperation."

Chrollo looks to everyone in the eye and stops at a particular person. "But before that, let me introduce our newest addition. Please step forward, Number Four."

The clown, as what other Spiders call him, may it be due to his appearance or his tricks, joins the leader.

As per the rules, after he defeated the late Number Four in their initiation rites, he instantly became the replacement and got himself tattooed the infamous thirteen-legged Spider with his number on his back, then becoming an official member of the Phantom Troupe.

Hisoka knows very well what he wants, but he also knows that most of the Spiders don't want him in their group, just like his predecessor he murdered for membership.

He receives only nods from some who have accepted him, and sneers from those who are left to grow accustomed to him, yet.

And he knows that the leader _is_ , too. Chrollo just not shows it and lets him do as he wants as long as it doesn't hinder their plans and endanger the Troupe.

Hisoka bows to them, and beneath it smirks that he has slowly made it to his goal so far - almost having it reached.

"And about the mission," continues Chrollo, showing the files in his hands. "We're going to York New and retrieve an object for the Mafia."

Nobunaga and Uvogin holler and bump their fists. "Another auction to _steal_ and _kill_!"

"And we _aren't_ stealing and killing anything in a private fête of the Verdieugeaus."

The two Spiders silence, not from the disappointment but with the question. "What's _fête_?"

Machi answers them. "It's a party, dummies."

"Right, Machi," says Chrollo. "And what has been once a thick file is now condensed in summary. Lend me your ears, and ask questions later. I won't repeat myself."

Uvogin and Nobunaga swallow a lump on their throats and quiet themselves. "Sorry, Danchō."

"Apology accepted. Back to topic, we're going to the party of the Verdieugeau twins, happening in two days' time.

"The twins are the only remaining successors of the Verdieaugeau clan, a wealthy family who've been business associates of the Mafia recently.

"Their family died in an explosion that happened almost five years ago in Hotel La Bleau, twenty miles from the province we purged that same year.

"It was in that same hotel that their family's heirloom, the hundred-year-old diamond carbuncle, was placed in safekeeping. The Mori clan, our current employer, once hired an assassin. They almost succeeded, but failed to escape the explosion.

"They're going to hold a celebration for their two-day diamond jubilee as top-rank successful business people in Hotel Soleil, at seven in the evening of February 14.

"I have seven tickets with me, so there's no need to trespass by any means violent. Shalnark's going to take care of the CCTVs and our comm devices, as well as our IDs."

Shalnark shows his thumb up in approval. "Of course, Danchō! All files downloaded and ready within 1200 hours!"

Chrollo then announces the names of those who will accompany him during the mission. "And you're coming with me, Shal. Also you Paku, Fei, Phinks, Machi . . . ." He looks at his Spiders' eyes, some already know that they better stay, while the other is just waiting.

"And it's you, Hisoka," he finally adds. "As your first outside mission with the Troupe, you're also coming."

Hisoka waves his hand. "Nah, Danchō. Take four-eyes instead of me. I'm not into parties."

"Why's that, Hisoka?"

Hisoka licks his lips. "Who knows what happens if I'm _in_ the party? There are already three men, but only two women. Add four-eyes and you're good to go."

Chrollo looks between Hisoka and Shizuku and considers the former's suggestion. He was right, they may face altercation if ever Hisoka's bloodlust oozes out and disturbs many guests, blowing their cover.

"Shizuku's coming with us, then. That makes the seven of us," announces Chrollo. "Questions?"

Machi raises her hand in which Chrollo nods his head to encourage her. "Yes, Machi?"

"Can I take a look over the files? I want to have some background on the previous assassin they hired."

"Of course, Machi. Most of its information are irrelevant anyway, but you can take your time reading them." Chrollo gives her the thick pile of papers in which the girl receives in her arm then turns the pages with her fingertips in a fluid motion, flashing page after page with scrutiny.

"If that's all, you're dismissed. We'll see each other on the thirteenth. Same place, same time."

All Spiders are gone in a bubble to work on their current affairs, except one of them.

"I thought you're going to go after _him_ ," says Chrollo. He stands beside her reading the files he have just had finished reading on their walk back to ther hideout. "There's no need to look over them again. I've already fleshed out all necessary and relevant details of our mission."

When Machi finished reading the papers and piled them back into the envelope. "Are these all, Danchō?"

"Yes. No more, no less." He gets the envelope from her and removes all contents of it, the pile overlapping the gap between his thumb and other fingers. He lets the documents slide from his hand and lie in a mess on the ground.

"You just dropped them, Danchō," she speaks in slight disgust. "Don't expect me to pick them up."

Chrollo chuckles at her. Machi's brows twitch in confusion at his reaction. "There's no need, these are rubbish." He pulls out a lighter from his trench coat pocket and flicks its igniter, throwing it on the mess of papers. Turning his back to her and tipping his head sideways, he says, "Let's call it a day, shall we?"

Machi nods her head and Chrollo disappears in her view in an instant using teleportation. She is the only Spider left alone in their hideout, watching what is now a burning pit of lost paperwork _and_ hardwork of the Mafia readily done for them; their research was deemed useless by their boss and leader, Chrollo Lucilfer.

She stares with droopy eyes at the fire still burning, watching as embers dance among the flames and die out soon before a second.

"Should I go after _him_?" She asks herself out loud, unknowing which one to follow: the leader, or the trickster?


End file.
